Page 55 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)
Chapter
Fifty-Four
Taylor
“Here’s my thumbnails where I’m exploring composition,” I tell Lily over our video call. “Don’t worry about the sloppy drawings, because at this phase, it’s more about playing around with space and the edges before I start painting.”
“They’re pretty small,” she says diplomatically.
“These sketches are miniature on purpose; the finished painting will be much bigger. I like looking at it from a tiny lens, because it shows us all the standout shapes and themes,” I explain.
“Gotcha,” she says, examining my designs.
“There are a few subtle differences, and you tell me which one you like best. Labeled number one, the hand feeding the pomegranate is pretty prominent. Number two, the lips are a bit more prominent. Number three, a dark figure is behind her, feeding her. Number four, the expression’s a bit more sensual, and number five, sensual plus more emphasis on the lips. ”
“Love number five,” she says decisively.
“Number five it is. As soon as I get your deposit, I’ll get to work.”
“Oh, my husband should’ve already dropped it off in your mailbox.”
“Let me check; one moment.” Popping outside, I find the envelope, and ripping it open, I do a little happy dance. My first commission check!
But the celebration is put on pause when I realize I’m on the radar of her scary husband, the Parisi family’s feared muscle man. But does it matter? At this point, I’m on the radar of every psychopath in the Tri-State area.
Maybe not Philly. There’s the silver lining.
“Received the check, thank you. I’m excited about this piece!” I tell her when I return inside to the call.
“Me too!”
We end our virtual conference, and I get my space cleaned up and walk upstairs to get ready for tonight’s fight.
Gavin’s seated cross-legged on a yoga mat in the living room, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes closed, deep in meditation.
There’s so much more to this man than I initially thought, and I’ve only scratched the surface.
His eyes flutter open, landing on mine.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I tell him.
“It’s alright.” He gives his neck a roll. “I was almost finished anyway.”
“Can I make you something to eat?”
Gavin grins, rising as lithe as a jungle cat before giving his body a little shuffle shake. “You’d make me something?”
My hands fall to my hips. “I’ll have you know that I can at least boil water. How about an omelet?” I know he likes to protein load when he’s training.
“Nah. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to eat anything this close to weigh-in.” He gives my ass a playful swat before sauntering out.
“Thanks, Bonnie,” I overhear Gavin telling my cactus. “Yeah, ring control will be important in this bout.” He pauses. “True, but I need to show the judges that I’m in control of this fight.”
I step into the kitchen, and Gavin locks eyes with me. “What’s wrong?” he asks me.
“I love you,” I whisper, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
He crosses the room, wrapping me in his arms. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“Thank fuck.” He lets out a sigh. “Thought you’d freak out if I told you first. And baby, I love the shit out of you.”
He presses his lips to mine in an all-consuming, life-altering kiss.
It would be the perfect moment if dread weren’t flowing through my veins.
Gavin
“Eyes on me,” my coach snaps, and I tear them away from Taylor holding her painted Round 5 sign overhead. She’s been distant ever since our declarations from earlier, and I don’t fucking like it. “Last two minutes. Give me everything you’ve got.”
I nod, accepting a swig of water before spitting it in a bucket and shoving in my mouth guard.
The bell rings, and I surge forward, going on the offensive. That’s when I see it out of the corner of my eye. The Hammer grabs a strand of Taylor’s hair, and her head snaps around. She hops out of her chair as something’s exchanged, but I don’t know what.
A mist of crimson shades my vision as Mike grabs Taylor and kisses her.
My attention returns to my opponent a split second too late. A left hook bangs me square on the chin as I crumble to the mat.
Taylor
I shove Mike off me as the crowd goes wild. My eyes snap to the ring, my hands covering my mouth.
“Now I know why you brushed me off.” Mike watches my horrified reaction with twisted pleasure. “I’m going to squish the Spider, if he wakes up from that night-night punch.” With that, he strolls off.
“Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.” The ref ends the fight, holding up Gavin’s opponent’s hand.
My boyfriend’s lying lifeless on the mat as panic floods my bloodstream. His coach and ringside doc Effie are squatted down next to him, and I feel like I’m going to splinter into a hundred different pieces.
They help Gavin sit up as blood trickles down his face; he looks like he doesn’t know where he is.
Before I lose my shit, I do something I still hate, and that’s run.